


Take a break

by karcathy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, a doctor's gotta unwind somehow, there's also cute fluff and dancing if you're into that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:46:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karcathy/pseuds/karcathy
Summary: Mercy works too hard. Sometimes, she needs some encouragement to stop.





	Take a break

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this whilst listening to [this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/haey1/playlist/15HiKjAnUuAymWdqejOTcP) because i am peak white people and generally just a parody of myself  
> also thanks to [Bella](http://archiveofourown.org/users/killingmonsterswritingthings/pseuds/killingmonsterswritingthings) for all the German help because mine is hopeless

Angela sheds Mercy like a snake shedding its skin, stripping off the Valkyrie suit and the personality that goes with it. The work she does is valuable, but nothing else leaves her so drained. Sometimes it feels like Overwatch is sucking everything out of her, and she needs a sharp delineation between who she is out there and who she is in here. Despite that, there's still work to do after hours. Where Mercy ends, Dr Ziegler begins, and between the two of them, there's always something more to be done. She's as exhausted as anyone else following a successful mission, but instead of relaxing in the rec room or passing out in her quarters, she heads to her office to work on the never-ending mountain of paperwork. It's tedious work, as tiring in its own way as the battlefield, but if she doesn't do it now there'll only be more later – and her failures always have consequences.

“Hey,” said a soft voice from the doorway, and she started, wondering how long she had been being watched without noticing.

“Sorry, I didn't see you there,” she said, pasting on a professional smile, “Is there something you needed, Fareeha?”

She made a point of not using call signs outside of missions; she'd rather separate her friends from their battlefield personas as well as herself.

“Still working, doctor?” Fareeha said, “Do you never sleep?”

“That's medicine for you,” she said lightly, although she was well aware of the heavy dark circles under her eyes, “No rest for the wicked.”

“You should take a break,” said Fareeha, her tone soft but stern, “You really ought to take better care of yourself.”

Angela laughed at that; how many times had she said the same words to her fellow agents?

“Are you here to take my job?” she said, a half-smile dancing on her lips, “I didn't know you were tempted to retrain as a medic.”

“ _Quis custodiet ipsos custodes_?” said Fareeha, almost smiling, “Someone has to look after our doctor.”

“Oh, so that's your job?” said Angela, raising one eyebrow, “Doctor to the doctors?”

“I'll settle for getting you to take a break,” she said, stepping into the room, “You've been working in here for hours.”

Angela glanced at the clock; it _was_ getting late, and she was hardly working at peak efficiency.

“All right,” she sighed, pushing her chair back from the desk, “You're right.”

“I know I am,” said Fareeha, holding out a hand. Angela accepted it, cautiously, and was pulled out of her chair. “Come with me,” she continued, a grin on her face.

“Are you taking me to bed?” she joked, just to see the blush rise in Fareeha's face.

“Not quite,” she said, leading the way into the (now empty) rec room. It was somewhat bare, the scruffy sofas pushed up against the walls, leaving a clear space in the middle of the room.

“Play,” Fareeha said, in a clear voice, and music started playing from the concealed speakers. “I thought you might need a distraction,” she continued, turning to face Angela and taking her other hand.

“I don't think I recognise this song,” Angela said, moving approximately to the rhythm.

“I found an old playlist,” explained Fareeha, her dancing far smoother, “This music is even older than my mum.”

“Don't let her hear you saying that,” she said, laughing as she stumbled on the rug.

“I won't,” she said, grinning, “It was presented as something that white people couldn't resist dancing to.”

Angela laughed out loud at that, although she had to admit, the tunes _were_ very catchy. Her initial awkwardness was subsiding somewhat, and she was beginning to enjoy dancing with Fareeha, despite her lack of experience.

“Well, this isn't what I expected,” she said, a flirtatious smile hovering on her lips, “But you were right.”

“See? I'm good at my job,” Fareeha said, spinning Angela into her arms and then out again.

“The job you created for yourself?”

“It couldn't be more perfect.”

Angela laughed, accidentally stepping on Fareeha's foot as she lost track of the rhythm. She didn't seem to mind. Although not exactly relaxing, dancing with her was a fun distraction from her work, and helped to take her mind off things. Smiling, she let the taller woman pull her closer, into a better position to guide her movements. She would be the first to admit she was a terrible dancer – two left feet might be an understatement – but following Fareeha's lead was easy enough. Idly, she wondered whether Fareeha had any formal training. It would be unexpected, but Fareeha always was. Even though she didn't recognise any of the songs, she felt like she'd heard them somewhere before, and they all made her feel like dancing.

“How did you even find this playlist?” she asked, trying to follow Fareeha's steps and mostly succeeding.

“The wonders of the internet,” she said with a grin, “You'd be surprised at what you can find.”

Angela laughed. She had few enough doubts about that.

“It was a lovely idea,” she admitted, “But I really should get back to work.”

She made no move to stop dancing, and neither did Fareeha.

“You work too hard,” she said, “You're here to look after all of us, but who's looking after you?”

“You, apparently,” she teased, but she knew there was at least some truth in the soldier's words.

“Stay with me.”

The words were simple, honest, the small smile on her lips heartfelt. Angela's heart ached as she nodded, letting Fareeha pull her close. Her hands went to Angela's waist, and the doctor rested her head on Fareeha's shoulder. Their slow dance was completely at odds with the music, their steps no longer even close to approximating the rhythm, but it still seemed to work. They moved in a small square in the middle of the room, their feet knocking against each other, always just on the edge of stumbling. It was strange – she was still tired, but something about this made her want to continue forever, never leaving the safe bubble of this room.

Eventually, of course, her tired legs betrayed her, and she stumbled over Fareeha's feet, falling heavily. She was only saved from a painful landing by the strong arms around her, and smiled gratefully at the tall soldier. She was surely bright red now, a mixture of exertion and embarrassment.

“Thank you,” she said, her tone light and teasing, “My hero.”

Fareeha laughed, her arms still supporting the bulk of Angela's weight without any apparent effort.

“Only for you.”

Her face was so close. Perhaps it was just her tired brain, addled by sleep deprivation, but it seemed like their flirtatious banter was teetering on the edge of serious. The rational part of her brain knew how unprofessional it would be to kiss Fareeha right now, but a larger part wanted to know how soft those lips were.

“We should probably stop,” she said, soft and breathless, “Take a break.”

“We should,” Fareeha agreed. Was she moving closer?

“I-” she began, but she was cut off by a gentle kiss.

“Sorry,” said Fareeha, pulling back just enough to separate their lips, “That was unprofessional of me.”

“Yes, it was,” she agreed.

Her hands wrapped around Fareeha's neck, and she pulled her in for another kiss, rough and desperate and clumsy.

“Completely unprofessional,” she continued, breathlessly.

Fareeha laughed throatily. She kissed Angela again, her lips soft and gentle and it was so sweet that Angela just about melted, sighing softly as she returned the kiss. She was glad she had Fareeha's arms to support her, since her legs didn't seem to be up to the job right now. Kissing her again, deeper now, Fareeha guided her back to the sofa, and they collapsed together.

“Tired out?” Angela teased, gently caressing her cheek with one hand.

“You wish,” she said with a grin, leaning in to kiss her again.

Angela gave herself up to the soft sweet kisses. This was an even better distraction than the dancing had been, and far less demanding. Her eyes drifted shut and she allowed herself to enjoy the simple sensation of kissing Fareeha.

“ _Gott_ ,” she said, breaking off to catch her breath, “If this was all an elaborate seduction ploy, consider me seduced.”

Fareeha laughed.

“I'm not just trying to seduce you, _Frau Doktor_ ,” she said, the German words awkward but oddly endearing, “I care about you.”

“ _So_ _süß_ ,” Angela said, her tone still soft and teasing, “I care about you, too, _Liebling_.”

“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know,” Fareeha said, her cheeks flushing red, “Mum never wanted me to join Overwatch, but she couldn't keep me away from you altogether. I thought you looked like an angel.”

“A fallen angel, hm?” she said, biting back a laugh. She couldn't blame her; it was an image she had actively cultivated.

“You're ethereal,” she continued, one hand gently stroking Angela's blonde hair, “I'm still not certain you're real.”

“Oh, I'm real enough,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to Fareeha's lips.

“I'm glad.”

Fareeha smiled before kissing her again. Angela closed her eyes again, losing herself in the kiss. Why hadn't she been doing this instead of working for all this time? In the background, a softer song was now playing, setting a more romantic tone. Fareeha shifted, half on top of Angela now, their bodies pressed close together and Angela's head tilted back so that she could kiss her. Angela sighed softly as Fareeha's hands ran down her torso, then gasped as they slipped under her shirt. Fareeha pulled back, the bottom of Angela's shirt lifted and a suggestive look on her face.

“ _Nicht hier_ ,” Angela said, her native German overriding her kiss-addled brain, “I'm not stripping down in a communal room,” she continued, her tone scolding, “It's inconsiderate.”

“But Jesse-”

“I don't want to know,” Angela interrupted, “Who may or may not be _fraternising_ in the rec room.”

Fareeha laughed, soft and breathless.

“Fine,” she said, a sultry smile on her lips, “No fraternising in the rec room.”

“ _Du bringst mich noch ins Grab_ ,” Angela said, sighing softly as she stared up at Fareeha's face.

Fareeha kissed her again, gentle and teasing. If she'd known a soldier would kiss like this, perhaps she'd have entered the armed services instead of medicine. Or perhaps she would just have responded to her gentle flirtation a little sooner, a little more readily, a little less afraid of the consequences.

“Angela,” she said, and her name had never sounded so sweet, “Angela, angel, you're so beautiful.”

Angela just hummed, a soft sound of agreement, and kissed Fareeha again, her lips curved by a gentle smile. Fareeha broke away, resting her forehead against Angela's, her eyes too close to focus on but soft and warm.

“We should go,” Angela said softly, loathe to break the silence but unsure how much longer they could stay here without breaking her rule about fraternising in common areas.

“We should,” Fareeha agreed, kissing her softly again before standing up.

Angela missed her immediately, the loss of her warmth almost making her shiver. She hesitated before opening her mouth.

“Come back to my room,” she said, tilting her head back to look Fareeha in the eye.

“Of course,” she said, face lighting up in a smile as she offered Angela her hand.

Angela let her lead the way. Of course she knew it; her room was far away from the rest of the quarters', next to the medbay. Practical, but lonely. She might be more grateful for that distance now, though.

“I don't think I've ever been in,” Fareeha said, pausing outside the door.

“It's not very exciting,” Angela said, swiping her card and waiting for it the door to slide open. The room was plain, functional, with very little in the way of decoration and not much furniture past the narrow, standard-issue bed.

“The downsides of working for a military organisation,” she said, and Fareeha laughed.

“You don't know the half of it,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently pulling Angela down next to her.

“Do I want to know?” said Angela, her voice light, before pulling Fareeha in for a kiss.

“Probably not,” she said, before kissing her again.

Angela smiled into the kiss, hardly able to imagine Fareeha getting up to this sort of thing during her military service; she seemed far too much the model soldier. Slowly, she leant backwards until she was lying down, her head just missing the pillow and Fareeha half on top of her. Fareeha was supporting herself with one hand, and the other was gently running down Angela's side, just light enough to tickle. She laughed breathlessly, breaking the kiss.

“Tease,” she whispered.

Fareeha snorted, but pulled back to tug Angela's shirt up over her head. Leaning back in for another kiss, she twisted, pulling the doctor on top of her. Angela laughed but went with it, settling into her lap and kissing her again as her hands moved softly up her back to the clasp of her bra, which she deftly unhooked.

“Mm,” Angela said, leaning back to remove her bra, “I could get used to this.”

Fareeha raised one eyebrow, then suddenly flipped them again, her strength making the movement effortless.

“Oh!” gasped Angela, her breath rushing out, “Or not.”

Fareeha grinned before leaning down to kiss her again, a brief press against her lips before moving to her throat, pressing wet kisses to her skin that made Angela giggle and then gasp. Her hand went to one breast, caressing it gently, whilst her mouth went to the other, licking and kissing it before giving the nipple a gentle bite that made Angela's breath catch in her throat. Fareeha came up to kiss her again, soft and wet, before returning to her stomach, kissing a line down her navel to the old jeans she'd thrown on after the quick post-mission shower she was now very glad she'd taken.

“Fareeha,” she said, her voice soft and breathy and needy.

Fareeha paused and grinned at her, the expression looking positively devilish from her current position, before returning to gently kissing at her hip bones, her hands running down her thighs in a way that tingled even through the denim. Angela was panting softly, barely keeping herself from whining, as Fareeha teased her, kissing across her stomach before moving to unbutton her jeans. She moved back and Angela tugged them off, almost too eagerly, making Fareeha laugh at her impatience.

“Look at you,” Fareeha said, her voice soft and husky, “You're so beautiful.”

“Fareeha, _bitte_ ,” she whined, lifting her hips off the bed.

Fareeha grinned that wicked grin of hers again, leaning down to press soft kisses along the inside of Angela's thigh, stopping at the edge of her underwear and moving to the other thigh, the gentle teasing driving Angela wild with want and need.

“Please,” she gasped, “Fareeha, you're such a tease.”

Fareeha laughed, pulling the elastic of her underwear down and sliding them off.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” she said, moving up to kiss her again as she slowly slid two fingers inside her. It was easy; she was so slick there was no resistance. Her fingers were agonisingly slow, still teasing her as they kissed. She gasped again as Fareeha broke away again and kissed down her abdomen. Her fingers kept moving slowly as her mouth pressed against her, licking and sucking as Angela's breathing sped up, coming in short, needy huffs. Fareeha's tongue was as talented as she could have hoped, driving her wild with the gentle pressure that was just slightly short of being enough. Whining with need, she wound her fingers through Fareeha's hair, attempting to convey her desperation with words beyond her. With aching softness, Fareeha's movements sped up, until Angela was gasping and tensing up before relaxing, the tension flooding out of every muscle in her body in an instant. Fareeha laughed softly as her fingers slid out of Angela with a soft wet sucking noise that made Angela wrinkle her nose.

“I hate that sound,” she said, as Fareeha lay next to her, “It reminds me of when they make the kissing effects too loud on TV.”

Fareeha laughed.

“I'm serious,” she said, kissing her softly, “It's the worst.”

“I bet you hate the word moist as well,” Fareeha said, a grin on her face as Angela shuddered.

“I hate you,” she said, rolling on top of Fareeha and running a hand along her side, feeling the hard muscle under the soft fabric of her t-shirt.

“Mm, I'm sure you do,” said Fareeha, smiling as Angela kissed her.

Angela decided kissing was more important than arguing right now, her hand toying with the waist of Fareeha's sweats as she deepened the kiss. She contemplated teasing her, but she was still tired and blissed out, and Fareeha had already been waiting long enough. Biting her lower lip gently, she slipped her hand inside her pants, finding her as wet as she was, easily accepting her probing fingers. She still hated the wet sound of her fingers sliding in and out, but the soft gasps and moans from Fareeha made it worthwhile. It didn't take long to bring her to a shuddering climax, softly gasping out Angela's name as she came. Angela wiped her hand on Fareeha's sweats before settling next to her, face buried in her shoulder.

“ _Du bist wunderschön_ ,” she said, her voice soft and almost reverent. There was a soft sound of agreement from Fareeha before she drifted into a blissful sleep.


End file.
